


Professionals

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Community: saiyuki_wk_au, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-31
Updated: 2011-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're under the lights, it doesn't matter if you're dead or undead: you better <em>work.</em></p><p>Vampire stripper fic for saiyuki_wk_au. Thank you, emungere, for betaing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professionals

The thing is, people think stripping's easy when you're a vampire. Which is bullshit. There's no magic mojo you can put on a crowd when you're up on the stage that will make anyone love you, or even think you're anything other than stupidly pale. (I blame those Anne Rice books. After that bullshit, I was happy to see fucking _Twilight._ )

When you're under the lights, it doesn't matter if you're alive or undead; you'd better work.

Of course, vampires do have some advantages. Humans aren't naturally nocturnal, they age, and I've always thought they lack a certain sense of style. I figure I got the best of both worlds.

The customers seemed to think so. I always made enough to pay the bills with a little left over to entertain the occasional lady friend. I never messed with the customers. That never ends well.

At least, not until _he_ walked in.

He was sitting near the back, at a table to himself. White-blond hair, as pale and pretty as a porcelain doll, and looking like he could give a fuck about the whole business. I'd seen people that way before, but they didn't normally put so much energy into it. This guy looked like the bar's existence was pissing him off. He looked like he might be a cop, but a cop would be trying to blend in, not glaring at random guys like they'd just kicked his puppy.

Yeah, I wanted to impress him. If you'd seen him, you would've wanted to, too. Just to get some kind of rise, some kind of reaction.

"Aren't you supposed to be going on soon?" Hatchi hissed in my ear.

I tried not to jump. "Aren't _you_ supposed to be tending bar?"

"Mmm," he said, and his fingers brushed against my waist. "I thought I should check on you. You seemed mesmerized."

I stuck my tongue out at him. Jealous bastard. "I'll go on," I said. "Don't worry. It's the new routine tonight, remember?"

"Oh, yes," he said wryly. "I'm aware."

I looked really fucking good in tonight's outfit, and he knew it. The DJ had come up with some extra tricks, so I could really pull off the act. Hercules (yeah, I know, his real name was Jean, like a girl) was up, which meant I had to stop dicking around and get ready. I squeezed Hatchi's ass and went backstage to make sure nothing had slipped out of place while I'd been gawking. I was in good shape, so I got into my spot and waited for Hercules to finish.

It wasn't exactly a chore; he always put on a pretty good show. Blondie in the back didn't seem very impressed, though.

We'd have to see what he thought of _me._

I had my hair tied back in a tight ponytail; short hair would've been better for the act, but I was damned if I'd cut it before I knew how well it'd go over. The cuff links were real; I was gonna take time on those, make it a real tease. The pinstriped pants were pull-away. The fake gun was still safely tucked in the leg holster; I'd stick it in my G-string later.

And then Apollo was running offstage and Leo was playing the old-school police siren. "It's a raid!" a voice shouted over the loudspeaker.

I grinned.

"Watch out," Leo called over the loudspeaker. "There's a dangerous criminal on the loose. His name's Big Red, and we've heard he's packing heat!"

 _How fucking cheesy,_ I thought, but I grinned like a lunatic anyway. Still, I had my back to the audience when the lights came up, my fedora half-covering my face. The bass line started, and I shook my ass, and then there was nothing but the dance, and the men, and the beat. The songs before me were mostly fast, so I'd picked something slower. I wanted this to be different. I wanted to catch people's attention, even before the blond had walked in. Him being there just made me want it more.

 _Come, as you are, as you were, as I want you to be--_

I pulled my hands over my chest, smoothing my jacket down before I eased it down over my shoulders. The plot, such as it was, was that I was a gangster trying to shed my pinstripes and blend in with the crowd. By the first set of "memoria"s, I was down to my pants, the fedora, and the gun in its leg holster. By the last "memoria"s, it was just me and my g-string, with the gun tucked in the back. I surveyed the crowd, looking just vulnerable enough to get some more fives stuffed in the g-string, and left the stage on the last guitar chord.

I pulled the tips out of my g-string and did a quick check; pretty damn good for a new routine. Once they were tucked safely away, it was time to hit the crowd.

I could feel the blond's eyes on me. I decided to save him for last.

 

The night was starting to wear thin by the time I made it to his table. Hatchi seemed to have disappeared, even further back in the bar than he usually was. I wondered what that might be about, but the blond was at the front of my thoughts.

He was even leaner and pissier-looking up close. Hard mouth, pale, startling eyes. I let him buy me a watered-down drink, and he didn't say no when I suggested a lapdance. It was a fucking red-letter night, and then my thigh touched his.

The son of a bitch had a tattoo. A holy one, had to be. I could feel the heat against my skin from the symbol. Not a cross, something curved. A crescent or a lotus or--

He caught my eye and hissed, "Where's Hatchi?"

Shit. _Shit._ Hatchi'd been a hunter before shit went south, but I'd never figured any of his old buddies would come calling. If this guy had even known Hatchi, and wasn't just some asshole looking for a vampire with a name to kill.

"Hatchi," he repeated. "Where is he?"

Half-vampires have some power. A little. I couldn't impress a human or anything. But I chould shout in my mind loud enough for a vampire to hear, and I did: _Hatchi. Run._

"You son of a _bitch,"_ the blond hissed, and pressed his thigh hard against mine. My skin was starting to smoke. "If I lose him--"

"Fuck off," I said, keeping still, like I could hold him in place with my legs. Shit, it hurt. "He's not--"

"Do you know what he did? Do you know how many people are dead?"

I knew a little. I knew he'd retired from hunting to live a Hallmark-with-incest life with his long-lost sister. I knew she'd been kidnapped by vampires, and he'd gotten turned taking out their nest. I knew I'd found what was left of him outside the bar after that.

"He didn't just kill the vampires who'd taken her," he said. "There's half a town gone."

"I don't care," I said.

His eyes were hard. "I don't give a shit about that. I'll find him. You might as well save us both time."

"Fuck off."

Usually you have to be undead to get the jump on me. But the next thing I knew, I was on my ass and Blondie was running out the door.

I heard the bouncer call after me. I didn't listen. I wasn't even sure where I was going until I got there, until I heard Blondie calling out and Hatchi saying, "I just needed a bit more time."

Another voice, another presence, as I got closer: "Just come with us, okay? It'll be all right."

Blondie snorted. "Don't lie to him."

"I know you won't hurt him," the new voice said. He was closer to me than the others; I could just make out the motion of his body in the faint moonlight.

"It's out of my hands, kid."

"I didn't mean to get you involved in this," Hatchi said.

"And that redhead you left back at the bar?"

"He had nothing to do with any of it. Please don't bring him into this."

I knew saying anything would be fucking stupid. I just didn't let it stop me. "I don't get a choice?"

"Don't try anything," the voice closest to me said. "Okay?"

"Just keep him quiet!" That was Blondie again.

"Fuck off," I told him, walking closer. "You didn't even pay for your lap dance." My heart was still pounding, but it was different from earlier, when I'd just been running like hell; now, I could feel the water soaking into my cheap shoes. It was cool and damp tonight out in the swamp, and I wasn't wearing shit. I shivered.

"What's a lap dance, Tres?"

"Shut up," Blondie -- Tres -- said.

"I'll just look it up later," the kid said.

"It's the only way you fucking look at a book," Tres snapped.

"They always like this?" I asked Hatchi. I could just make out his shape.

"I'm not sure," Hatchi said. "They met after I knew the good Father." His eyes reflected the moonlight; his earrings must've been off.

"What, he's a priest?"

"Buddhist," Tres answered.

I could just make out those eyes of his. "And you rolled with Hatchi before he retired."

Tres nodded, a sharp dip of his chin as the moon rolled out and caught his pretty hair.

"And now what?"

"We want to talk to him," Tres said. "You know what he did. You can't just walk away from that and into some shitty strip joint."

Before I could decide if I wanted to defend my profession, I heard: "He _was_ stripping!"

Tres' head snapped in my direction. "Shut the _fuck up,_ Goku!"

I could see Goku sighing. "I'm not--"

"Just shut up."

Goku turned to me instead. "You can come out, you know. We don't want to hurt anybody."

So I walked over, sloshing into the wet muck of the swamp, just as the moon came out for real and I could get a good look at the scene. Tres' face was streaked with grime; Hatchi looked winded. And then there was Goku, short, strong, dark hair, white fangs. He grinned at me.

Hunters usually didn't keep vampires around. I'd sure as hell never heard a hunter give one orders. Tres was special. Of course, anyone who hunted with Hatchi probably hadn't been normal from the start. I wondered how they'd worked together. If they'd fucked. How the kid had gotten into the picture (how old was he, really? He had to be a true vampire, I could feel his power from twenty paces, when I focused).

I wasn't going to get any answers. I'd be lucky if I got Hatchi.

Something called out in the swamp; a bird, I think, some animal cry. And then we all felt something else, coming in; vampire, fast, pissed. Tres pulled out a gun.

"I'm not here for you, Father," the voice said. "I'm here for that old hunting partner of yours. Though I appreciate your pointing me in his direction."

Hatchi's teeth glinted in the light. "I thought I'd killed all of you."

"Yeah, well, you tried." Male, tall, lean. Moving out of the darkness, eyeing all of us like we were threats. We were, of course; I didn't realize just how much back then. "My sister, my sire--"

 _"My_ sister," Hatchi snarled. "Or did you forget? Did you forget she was pregnant with your sire's spawn?"

He hadn't told me that bit, just that she'd died. I thought of Mom, and it pulled a little at the back of my gut.

"That why she put the knife in her own throat?" the guy asked, and the pull got tighter.

Hatchi growled.

"Are you two done?" Tres sounded bored with the whole thing. "I have a job to do, you know."

The vampire darted at Tres, and Tres shot.

And _hit._

There ain't many humans that fast. Must've been a holy symbol on the bullet, too, because it ripped through him like a spreading fire, dropping him to his knees. The guy never took his eyes off Hatchi, though.

"I'll see you in hell," he said, through the pain.

"Not if I see you first, I'm afraid," Hatchi said, working his way through the weeds toward the guy. "You've caught me at a bad time; you see, I decided a life like this is better than no life at all. A few months ago...." He shrugged. "But that's life, isn't it?" There was the ghost of a smile on his face. "Nothing's quite as we plan." He leaned down, a gesture that looked harmless, though even I could pick up his heartbeat. Even I could tell it was anything but.

The guy tried to defend himself, but Hatchi slashed his throat open, claws flashing in the moonlight.

The vampire's dying scream echoed around the swamp for a while, and none of us said anything.

My feet were getting cold. Hell, all of me was getting cold, I wasn't wearing shit.

"You're gonna get hypothermia," Goku said.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Vampire," I said dismissively. "Takes a while for me to get cold."

"Only half," Tres said, and there was another interesting fact about Blondie: not even hunters always knew how to spot someone like me. "You'll still get there."

"Whatever."

"Look," Tres said. "Your friend's gonna freeze his ass off, and these shoes aren't waterproof. I'm getting pissed off out here."

"I know," Hatchi sighed. He looked at me.

I'd found him in the road, bleeding, _changing._ I'd held him as his body shook off the last of its humanity, bandaged up his chest when the cross tattoo burned off. He knew what I wanted to hear.

"I'm not sure I'll come back," he said.

"Yeah," I said, "I know."

And I watched them walk away. I stayed out in the swamp until their smells faded and I felt a leech trying to crawl up my leg.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, stupid," I said. I pulled it off and threw it back into the water.


End file.
